No thanks, says America
28 November 07
I’ve always been a little squeamish about my own blood. The sudden red bubbles blossoming along a scratch, the strange metallic taste when I lick them away – it always gives me a slight shiver. I’ve never been in a serious accident of any kind, and the cuts and grazes of my early years seem a long time ago. The minor wounds of recent days revolve around overenthusiastic onion chopping and snorkelling over coral in shallow waters. I have accepted, with notable lack of enthusiasm, the fact that medical checkups these days seem to necessitate the drawing of blood for whatever battery of tests are required to pronounce me a perfectly healthy adult in America. I assume this is some sort of ploy which the pharmaceutical industry has lobbied into general practice with the intention of getting various drugs off the shelves. The sight of my blood filling up those tiny tubes makes me a little faint though. This said, I recently decided that it was my civic duty to sign up for an appointment at the blood bank and give something back to the world at large. I gritted my teeth and headed over there just now. I received my icecream voucher (“A pint for a pint”) and my reading material and sat down to peruse the literature. Page three of What To Know Before Giving Blood informed me that the blood of people who have engaged in needle use, gay sex, sex with people at risk from HIV, and people who come from EUROPE was not required, thank you very much. I kept the icecream voucher.